


HospiTale

by Jammy_Jams



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Hospital, Hospital Director Asgore, Human AU, Janitor Sans, Nurse Toriel, Security Guard Undyne, Selectively Mute Frisk, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jammy_Jams/pseuds/Jammy_Jams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A human AU that takes place in a hospital. Frisk is a permanent resident in the children’s ward for the foreseeable future, and doesn't have much of a home to return to even if they do recover. They’ll need DETERMINATION to survive their hopeless situation, make new friends, and finally win their happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Place, Another Time

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is 3rd person POV from Toriel's perspective, but will shift more to Frisk's as the story goes on.

Toriel hurried down the busy hallway to her newly-assigned patient’s room. She had worked for Capitol Hospital more than ten years now and new the routes to any room in the building by heart. During had received a message on her pager during lunch today, indicating that another nurse in the children’s ward had retired, and that she would be filling her shift. Toriel didn’t mind, she loved children, even if they were difficult for her to work with after the death of her own two children.

 

She absentmindedly dodged an IV drip as she walked toward the elevator, automatically making sure her hijab didn’t catch on it. It was her favorite one after all; and lovely shade of lilac to match her hospital scrubs. She was far too busy to have much of a social life outside of her job, but if she had close friends they would have told her the purple contrasted beautifully with her golden brown skin.

 

On the ride up to the 4th floor Toriel sent up a silent prayer that whoever her new patient was would be healthy enough to survive their stay at the hospital. The 4th floor held the children’s ward, which housed permanent and semi-permanent, underage children.  No matter how hard she tried not to, she always wound up hopelessly attached to her young patients; the names of the six that had passed away would forever be burned into her mind.

 

The elevator dinged and Toriel stepped out onto the polished linoleum floor. Capitol Hospital was relatively small, and the children’s ward hardly ever housed more than a dozen patients. She walked past the brightly decorated reception desk and into the community room. The community room connected the hallway to all the patient’s rooms, and was impossible to bypass. She looked around at the few children playing a gaming device while sitting on a faded green couch, the others making crafts at a low wooden table, and the rest playing with toys donated to them by the local charity. As sick as many of them were, they still did their best to make the most of their situation and have fun; the sight filled her chest with emotion.

 

The message she received didn’t have much information beside the room number, so she decided to start there. But just as she started walking forward and hand caught her lightly by the elbow, forcing her to stop and turn around.

 

Another nurse, wearing hospital scrubs covered in hundreds of tiny frogs, dropped her arm as soon as she had Toriel’s attention.

 

“Sorry about that, but you were a little spaced out and didn’t hear me call you.” Toriel flushed slightly and motioned for her to continue. “You’re the replacement nurse, right?  Well, there’s something you should know about the child you were assigned. They don’t talk, _ever_.” She continued at Toriel’s surprised look. “We don’t know why, but they won’t answer no matter what you ask them, and they have a hard time looking people in the eye.”

 

“Have you tried talking to their parents?” Toriel asked, quickly catching on that the child wasn’t referred to as a he or a she.

 

The nurse looked a little frustrated at that. “We would if they bothered showing up, but we haven’t seen them around in a while. Look, as far as we can tell there’s nothing physically preventing them from speaking to us, they just won’t. No one would blame you if you just went in there, did your job and got out.” She jumped as her pager started beeping, and turned to hurry out of the room.

 

Toriel called out a compliment on her frog-scrubs as she left, and could have sworn she saw a bright blush spread across her cheeks before she turned the corner. Chuckling, Toriel walked resolutely toward her mystery patient’s room.

 

She opened the door at the very end of the hall, and quietly stepped inside before a painful throb went through her chest. The blinds were closed, and the faint daylight that seeped into the room soaked everything in a sad, blue tint. There were no decorations on the walls, no pictures, no personal keepsakes, just the starch white of the hospital sheets and the sheen of pungent antiseptic on all the surfaces in the room. The only break in the oppressive blue that covered the room was a small bouquet of yellow flowers by the window.

 

Then Toriel saw a small lump on the bed under the white sheets, and a tuft of brown hair peeking out over the top.

 

“Hello?”

 

No answer, or movement. Perhaps they were sleeping? Toriel quietly took the chart from the foot of the bed and glanced over it. It appeared that the child, Francesca, a tiny 8 year old, had a genetic disorder that was rarely seen or documented. Toriel only vaguely remembered it from medical school, and what she recalled only told her that treatments were still in the experimental phase. The disease caused constant low oxygen levels; something was preventing the hemoglobin proteins in their red blood cells from functioning correctly, causing constant fatigue, dizziness, and headaches. The poor child couldn’t even get out bed on some days, and often had to wear an oxygen mask.

 

The nurse sighed, suddenly much more tired, and reached over to pull the sheet down away from their face. She started when she realized that they were awake, and watching her quietly.

 

“Ah, hello young one. I did not realize you were awake. Would you like me to open the blinds?” They nodded so subtly she almost missed it, but smiled brightly at them and went to let the late afternoon sunlight in. The light reflected off of the golden flowers, turning the room a sickly shade of yellow.

 

Toriel grabbed the bouquet away from the window and turned to face the bed.

 

“Perhaps I should move these, would you like them on your nightstand so you can see them better?”

 

The child didn’t react much other than a slight downturn of the corners of their mouth, which confused Toriel.

 

“Do you not wish to see them?”

 

They wouldn’t look Toriel in the eye, and focused on the wall next to her instead, absently bringing their right index finger up to their mouth like they were about to shush her, but then dragging it down their chin twice.

 

 _Lonely_.

 

It was sign language, something that hardly any of the staff at the small hospital knew. That explained why the child had given up trying to communicate; they had been here for more than a month with no one to talk to and no one who could understand.

 

“Why do such lovely flowers make you lonely?” Toriel asked, heart breaking just a little more.

 

The child’s wide eyes snapped to hers for the first time since she entered the room. Their hands were suddenly in a flurry of motion, moving almost too quickly for Toriel to keep up.

 

_Had yellow flowers at home. Parents gone a lot. Didn’t talk to me, couldn’t sign. Sad. Got sick, came here. Parents still don’t come, send flowers instead. Every week, don’t like._

 

Toriel set the flowers on the floor so she could sign and talk at the same time. “Your parents didn’t learn sign language for you?”

 

The child shook their head sadly. _No, said I could speak. Didn’t need to sign, wanted me to be normal. Didn’t understand. Learned from videos on computer. Not very good._

“You taught yourself? But then, you aren’t normal, Francesca, you’re very smart, and very special-”

 

But as soon as Toriel said “Francesca” they started shaking their head more emphatically and signing more erratically. _Not that name. Don’t like that name._

“Alright, that’s alright.” Toriel soothed as she walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. “What would you like to be called?”

 

They made a circle with their index finger and thumb, then crossed their middle finger over their index finger, then stuck their pinky up, then balled their hand into a fist, and finished by holding their index and middle fingers up in a “peace sign” and crossing their thumb over them.

 _F-R-I-S-K_.

 

“Frisk,” Toriel repeated, “That’s a lovely name.”

 

Pride shone in Frisk’s eyes as they sat up on the bed, and Toriel couldn’t resist leaning over to give them a quick hug, which was reciprocated with surprising force.

 

“Ok, Frisk, what would you like to do with the flowers? Throw them away?”

 

The child looked uncertain for a moment, and then turned their head to stare out the door that Toriel had left open. From their bed they could see the children playing at the arts-and-crafts table, some of which were hooked up to IV drips or sitting in small wheelchairs.

 

They turned back to Toriel with a serious expression and signed, _Give._

 

Toriel beamed and stood up, “I think that’s a wonderful idea! Would you like to come pass them out with me?”

 

Frisk looked hopeful for a second, and then shook their head no. Thinking back to their chart, Toriel realized that Frisk might not be able to walk.

 

“I could carry you, if you like. You won’t have to sign at all if you don’t want to, and if you do I can translate for you. It would make the other children happy to receive a gift from you.”

 

After another few moments of internal debate, Frisk hesitantly reached both arms out to Toriel. She gladly scooped the child up into her arms, handing them the flowers she picked up off the floor.

 

“So light!” She thought as they walked out to hand each child a yellow flower. They couldn’t have been any bigger than an average five-year-old. The lack of oxygen must have stunted their growth; the thought made her sad. How much more must this child suffer before they were allowed to enjoy their childhood?

 

But, at least for the moment, they seemed content to silently pass out flowers and receive thanks from the other children in the form of paper stars and small origami birds. Before Toriel knew it, she was hopelessly in love with another one of her patients.

 

And the thought of finally having someone to talk to filled Frisk with DETERMINATION.


	2. Someone New

Giving out the yellow flowers to the other children became a weekly tradition for Frisk and Toriel, much to her delight. They would either be carried out by Toriel or pushed out of the room in their wheelchair, and would silently hand out the flowers to everyone. It became quickly obvious that Frisk was in no way a reclusive child; they watched the other children with an intense and benevolent curiosity, though almost never tried to initiate conversation even with Toriel there to translate. After they returned to Frisk’s room, they would carefully pin each gift the children gave them in return for the flowers onto the corkboard hanging on the wall, even if it left them exhausted afterword.

 

To Toriel, it seemed as though Frisk wanted to make friends but simply had no experience with people their age, and her suspicions were confirmed a few weeks later when she asked where they used to go to school.

 

_Didn’t go to school. Stayed home, parents didn’t want me to- to…_

They dropped their hands to the hospital bed they were reclining on in frustration. Frisk practiced sign language with Toriel daily, and was learning at an incredible rate; Toriel thought that she might have been a teacher in another life, but there were still many words they didn’t know yet.

 

“Do not worry my child, perhaps you can try to spell it out?” Toriel saw the warm smile Frisk tried to hide every time she referred to them as her child, so she made sure to use the phrase as often as possible.

 

_I-M-B-E-R-E-S?_ They signed out slowly.

 

“Embarrass?” Toriel signed in example, cupping the air around her face with spread fingers and moving her palms. It was times like these she cursed the English language and its strange spellings, and possibly Frisk’s parents, but she never anything other than encouragement show on her face.  

 

_Yes. Parents didn’t want me to embarrass them. Didn’t speak, bad child._

“No!” Toriel called out firmly, startling the child on the bed, “No, you are not bad, my child, you must never think that of yourself. You are wonderful, unique, different.”

 

Frisk glanced sadly at their uncooperative legs under the white sheets, and Toriel stepped forward to lean over them and place her hands on their knees.

 

“Yes, every part of you is wonderful, even the parts that do not work as they should. Speaking with your hands is as beautiful as any other language, maybe even more so; it is an art not many have. Sing with pride, my child, and never let your differences make you think you are worth any less.”

 

Small teardrops formed in the corners of the child’s eyes as Toriel spoke, and as she leaned down to hug them a dam broke; they sobbed big, heaving breaths into her neck, and a wet spot formed on her uniform, but she didn’t care. What mattered most was the hurt, weeping child in her arms. After a while their breath came more evenly and their shaking died down to occasional shivers; Toriel released them with a smile which they returned in kind.

 

“Unfortunately, I must leave soon my child, I have other duties I must attend to before my shift is over, but before I go I am afraid I have a bit of bad news.” At the apparent alarm on Frisk’s face, she held up her palms in a placating manner, “Do not fret, it is nothing serious, I am merely required to attend a conference out of town for a few days, so I will not be here to practice with you.”

 

Frisk received the news solemnly, and prepared themselves to face the loneliness of the next few days. They were alone for months before Toriel got there, surely they could handle a few more days?

 

The uncertainty was plain on their face, and Toriel was quick to respond. “But I have a friend here who would be very happy to take my place while I am away.”

 

_Who_?

 

“His name is Sans, he works here at the hospital as a janitor.”

 

_How did you meet?_

“I believe he is a part-time comedian at the restaurant his brother works at. I was here late one night when he was practicing his jokes, he is very _punny_.” Frisk wrinkled their nose at the bed joke and Toriel laughed before continuing, “So I replied with a joke of my own.

 

 ‘Why couldn’t the pony sing himself to sleep?” She waited a moment for dramatic effect before finishing with, “Because it was a little hoarse!” and burst into a fit of laughter while Frisk smiled begrudgingly. She wiped with corners of her eyes and said, “Since then he will occasionally stop by on his breaks to exchange jokes with me, it is such fun.”

 

Frisk saw a light blush form on her cheeks as she trailed off, and their expression shifted to smug.

 

_You like him._

“Well, yes I suppose I do; he is a very dear friend of mine. And he is fluent in sign language as well.”

 

But before Frisk could ask any more questions, Toriel’s pager beeped and she stood up, planting a quick kiss on their forehead before walking toward the door.

 

“He will be here tomorrow when his shift is over, and I will return in a few days. Be good my child, won’t you?”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day passed very slowly for Frisk. They felt strong enough to stand and walk to the bathroom on their own in the morning, but not much more than that. They had to content themselves by staring at the colorful little crafts pinned on their corkboard from the other children, or watching them make more through the crack in the door. Practicing the new words Toriel taught them also helped pass the time, but made their hands cramp before noon.

 

It was the early afternoon now, and the laughter of the other kids outside could be heard in between the beeps of their heart monitor, and they sighed heavily. Toriel had been gone less than a full day and they already missed them terribly, so terribly that they were having a hard time finishing their lunch, and pushed the tray away.

 

“hey now, i know hospital food ain’t the greatest, but i _donut_ think you should waste it.”

 

Frisk looked up from their unappealing lunch to see an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway. He was short; his head would only come up to Toriel’s shoulder if she were in the room, and had a broad grin stretched across his face, showing off the small gap between his front teeth. A large blue sweater covered his bulky frame, and his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his black basketball shorts. His skin was dark, much darker than Toriel’s, but above everything else the things that stood out most were his eyes. The one on his right was a warm brown color that matched his skin, but his left eye was a startlingly electric blue with streaks of green so bright they were almost yellow.

 

Frisk liked him immediately.

 

_S-A-N-S_? They spelled out slowly, balling up their right fist with their thumb across their knuckles, then moving their thumb to the outside, then draping their first three fingers across their thumb, and finishing with the first motion.

 

“heh, not bad kiddo. it’s nice to meet ya, frisk.” He walked over with an outstretched hand and Frisk reached forward to shake it, not expecting the loud “PPBBBTTTHHHBBBTTHHHHP” that followed.

 

Sans broke into loud guffaws of laughter as Frisk stared at him in amazement. He held up a deflated whoopee cushion and said, “man, the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick. never gets old.” And before Frisk knew if, their shoulders were shaking in silent laughter as well.

 

“man, tori was right. you really don’t like makin’ a sound if you can help it, huh? but that’s alright, i gotcha.” He pocketed the whoopee cushion and sat down on one of the plastic chairs next to the bed. “so, what do you and tori usually do when she’s here?”

 

_Talk, helps me practice. She teaches me new signs. Only know short sentences._

Sans tracked the movements of their hands out of the corner of his eye, like he didn’t need to concentrate to understand it like Toriel did. He scratched the side of his head before he continued, signing as he spoke now, “ok, so what do you wanna talk about?”

 

His movements were almost lazy in the way each sign flowed into the next, and it looked almost like an accent to Frisk, something personal. Could hands have accents? They thought about it while they self-consciously signed,

 

_Your eyes are pretty._

Sans raised his eyebrows and laughed, “heh. thanks, kiddo, _eye_ think so too. and so does my brother.”

 

Smiling at the silly joke, Frisk replied, _Brother?_

Sans eyes lit up as Frisk accidentally stumbled upon his favorite topic. “yeah, my younger bro papyrus, he’s the coolest. both of his eyes are brown, like my right one, but he still likes my blue one even if i used to scare him with it.”

 

His hands were almost too fast for Frisk to keep up with, but he didn’t look like he noticed; he was too caught up in talking about Papyrus. Frisk didn’t mind though, he was nice.

 

_How?_ They asked, and Sans launched into a narrative about him making up stories for Papyrus when they were younger, and telling him about the “evil eye” that watched you while you slept, and stole all your stuffed animals if you ate your brother’s pudding cups.

 

Frisk smiled and laughed in all the right places, encouraging him to go on story after story. They learned about how Papyrus was Sans’ younger brother by 13 years, how Papyrus wanted to be a chef, but was really bad at cooking until he started going culinary school, how proud Sans was to be putting him through college, how Papyrus was born partially deaf and didn’t get surgery until he was seven so they both learned sign language, how loud he still was despite being able to hear fine now, how he volunteered at that very hospital to pay them back for giving him his hearing, and his deep and abiding love of puzzles.

 

_Like puzzles, used to have a puzzle book_. Frisk signed back, making Sans grin.

 

“oh yeah? maybe i should try to get pap down here tomorrow to make you some more, he’d like that.”

 

Frisk nodded enthusiastically in agreement before realizing that they hadn’t asked Sans anything about himself. Not wanting to be rude, they asked,

 

_S-A-N-S always a janitor?_ And their stomach dropped as the smile on Sans’ face froze. They frantically tried to think of some way to backtrack as he awkwardly scratched the side of his head and gave a forced laugh.

 

“ah, no. not always. but i won’t bore you with the details of my old job. anyway, i think it’s about time i headed out.” he said as he stood up.

 

Frisk felt moisture build up on the inside of their eyelids and tried to hold it back as hard as they could, but a couple drops leaked out regardless.

 

“whoa, hey, what’s wrong?”

 

_Said wrong thing, so you are leaving. Won’t come back. Bad child_ , they signed out before remembering what Toriel said. The thought of disappointing her made the tears slip out faster.

 

“what? aw, no kiddo, that’s not it at all.” He said as he walked over to the bed and ruffled their hair. “take a look out the window.”

 

Frisk did, and was surprised to see that it was already dark outside; the time had flown by without either of them noticing.

 

“i just gotta get home so pap can practice making dinner for someone. and then he gets real cranky without a bedtime story.” Frisk gave him a watery smile and Sans carefully wiped away the moisture with his fingers. “so no more of this, ok? i like you fine.”

 

At Frisk’s nod he leaned to bonk his forehead on the top of their head with a small thud, and laughed at their puzzled expression. “heh, i used to do that to pap when he was little too, the little _bonehead_. i’ll see you tomorrow, kiddo.”

 

Frisk lay back against the bed once he shut the door behind him and waited for a nurse to bring them their dinner. This time, they were going to try and finish all of it. The thought of seeing Sans and maybe Papyrus tomorrow filled them with DETERMINATION.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the responses, they mean a lot.


	3. The Other Half

Frisk woke up feeling groggy and exhausted: they were so excited to see Sans again and meet Papyrus that they had a hard time falling asleep the night before. They looked over to their left and saw sunlight coming through the blinds, and hitting the fresh vase of flowers one of the nurses must have dropped off while they were sleeping. The sight of the flowers filled them with a familiar, uneasy feeling, and they wished for the umpteenth time that Toriel would come back early from her conference.

 

She had gotten into the habit of sneaking Frisk slices of homemade butterscotch-cinnamon pie after she learned Frisk couldn’t remember ever having a birthday party, or eating cake that wasn’t store-bought. It was the most amazing thing Frisk had ever tasted, even if they had a hard time accepting it at first. They weren’t worth going through the trouble of baking an entire pie, but Toriel insisted that she didn’t mind it at all, stating that Frisk could use the extra calories and she was only doing her job.

 

The child looked down at their thin wrists poking out from their striped sweater sleeves and heaved a sigh. It was difficult to work up the energy to eat, and not eating left them feeling even more drained; it was a horrible cycle they didn’t want to start again. They looked over to the right of the bed, and sure enough, a cold breakfast of mushy hospital food was still waiting untouched on the tray. Frisk reached over to grab the rolling tray and pull it closer, but their weak grip made their fingers keep slipping off the edge. After several minutes of trying and only succeeding in moving it a few inches closer, Frisk allowed their arm to fall back to the bed. Tears of frustration has started gathering in the corners of their eyes, and they looked around the room to distract themselves and stop them from falling.

 

The yellow flowers stared mockingly back at them, and Frisk felt themselves about to cry when they heard a muffled yell through the partially-open door.

 

“HELLO YOUNG CHILDREN! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE COME TO GRACE YOU ALL WITH MY PRESENCE AND MEET MY BROTHER’S NEW FRIEND! THIS IS A MOMENTOUS OCCASION INDEED, SEEING AS MY LAZY BROTHER HARDLY EVER PUTS IN THE EFFORT OF FINDING NEW FRIENDS! THEY MUST BE SOMETHING QUITE SPECIAL; WHERE IS THE CHILD KNOWN AS FRISK?”

 

A moment of silence followed the outburst, followed again by the booming voice, “THIS DOOR? FANTASTIC! THANK YOU TINY CHILDREN!”

 

The door banged open less than a second later, and young man with the biggest smile Frisk had ever seen stepped into the room. He was _tall,_ a few inches taller than Toriel even, but where she had a thick sturdiness to her Papyrus was all lean, wiry muscle. The fitted white shirt with orange pockets, red cape, tight black pants, blue speedo(?), and large red boots did nothing to hide that his pointy knees and elbows looked downright painful.  His hair wasn’t curly and shaved closely like Sans’ was; instead it was straight and few inches long, and looked permanently wind-tousled like he ran everywhere he went. His deep tan couldn’t cover the bright red spots on his sharp cheekbones, and the teeth behind his thin lips were all uniform and bone straight. Everything about him was thin and sharp and should have given him a harsh, almost unfriendly look, but he somehow managed to seem soft and inviting despite his appearance and outlandish costume.

 

He spotted Frisk on the bed and walked over to them, waving him gloved hands around wildly and signing while talking, “HELLO FRISK! SANS HAS TOLD ME SO MUCH ABOUT YOU AND IT’S SO NICE TO FINALLY MEET YOU IN PERSON! I HAD TO WAIT ALMOST 19 WHOLE HOURS TO SEE YOUR FACE AFTER HEARING ABOUT YOU, AND I MUST SAY IT IS QUITE A NICE FACE. ALSO, I COME BEARING GIFTS!”

He gestured behind him where Sans was just stepping into the room, holding a sealed plastic container labelled spaghetti in permanent marker. He winked at them and shuffled over to the chairs again, ruffling their hair in greeting before plopping down and placing the box next to the full tray of food.

 

“I SEE YOU HAVEN’T EATEN YET. WONDERFUL! NOW YOU CAN TRY MY BRILLIANT COOKING!” Papyrus said, making Frisk feel a little better about not being able to eat their breakfast, but also bringing back a wash of shame at their weakness. They made a face and looked down at their hands, feeling their cheeks heat up when they realized that they still wouldn’t be able feed themselves.

 

Papyrus noticed something was amiss immediately, and asked in a marginally quieter voice, “WHAT’S WRONG, NOT HUNGRY?”

 

Frisk would have lied and saved everyone the trouble, but at that moment their stomach chose to grumble and alert everyone that they were, in fact, very hungry. There was nothing left to do but tell the truth, and they signed back clumsily, without looking up,

 

_Hands tired today, can’t hold fork._

 

“NOT TO WORRY SMALL CHILD! I’LL HOLD IT FOR YOU! THIS IS THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY FOR ME TO SHOW OFF THE ‘AIRPLANE MANEUVER’ SANS USED TO USE ON ME!”

 

Frisk looked up at Papyrus face as he was talking, expecting to see some sort or pity or ridicule in his eyes, but only found kindness; not even a hint of pity was present. Staring into them, Frisk realized Sans had been wrong about his eyes; they _were_ brown like he said they would be, but Papyrus’ were so much darker than his they were almost black. The corners ended in a slight point, like Frisk’s, but held all the unflagging optimism and energy their eyes lacked.

 

Frisk nodded in assent hesitantly, and signed back, _No airplane please,_ making Sans laugh from his seat in the chairs. He hadn’t said a word the entire time, opting to lean back and watch his brother handle the situation with a subtle look of pride.

 

Papyrus let out a happy “NYEH HEH HEH” as he darted forward and pressed a button on the underside of the bed railing, causing it to swing down and leave the side of the bed unguarded. He hopped up to sit where the railing used to be and grabbed the container of food and a fork from the untouched plate.  At Frisk’s surprised look, he responded with, “I USED TO SPEND A LOT OF TIME IN THESE BEDS WHEN I HAD SURGERY ON MY EARS, SANS WOULD ALWAYS PRESS THAT BUTTON AND SIT NEXT TO ME. THE NURSES WOULD ALWAYS TRY TO KICK HIM OFF BUT IT NEVER WORKED; THEY WERE TOO ENTRANCED BY MY NATURAL CHARM EVEN WHEN I WAS ON HEAVY PAINKILLERS!”

 

Sans signed everything Papyrus said while he was talking; it gave Frisk the chance to see the gestures even though Papyrus’ hands were busy, and distracted them from feeling too embarrassed that they were being fed. It was odd seeing the dissonance between Sans’ fluid signing and Papyrus’ articulated speech, but they worked together perfectly in a weird sort of way.

 

Papyrus proudly brandished the first forkful of spaghetti in front of Frisk, cupping the air underneath it with his other hand in case it fell, “ARE YOU READY TO TASTE MY BEST SPAGHETTI TO DATE, TINY CHILD? IT IS A GREAT HONOR TO BE ABLE TO FEED IT TO YOU MYSELF, FOR NOW I CAN SEE THE EXACT MOMENT IT HITS YOUR TASTEBUDS!” and after a moment he petulantly added on, “SANS WON’T EVER LET ME DO THIS FOR HIM! WHICH IS AMAZING CONSIDERING HOW LAZY HE IS.”

 

“sorry pap. you know i love you, but i don’t want you sticking pointy objects anywhere near my face. way too many misjudgments of distance since you hit your growth spurt.”

 

“THOSE STOPPED HAPPENING YEARS AGO! I CAN DO IT NOW!”

 

Frisk noticed that they had unique signs that represented each other’s names, like they had for Toriel. For Toriel, Frisk brought both their hands up to the top of their head, and pulled them down to their shoulders, mimicking the pretty hijabs she always wore. Sans tapped his left eye twice when signing his own name, and pulled his fingers across his mouth in a huge U-shaped smile when signing Papyrus’ name. They carefully memorized them for later use.

 

“still not happenin’”

 

“GAH! LOOK I’LL SHOW YOU!” He carefully pushed the fork into Frisk’s mouth and waited for their lips to close around it, then he slid it out just as carefully and pointed it at Sans with a triumphant laugh. “SEE?”

 

“yeah, good job bro. but i’m still terrify- _eyed_ that i’ll go blind if you sneeze, so i’ll stick to feeding myself.”

 

Neither of them seemed to be paying much attention to Frisk as they chewed, which put them much more at ease with the situation. The brothers continued their light-hearted bickering as the plastic container got emptier and emptier, Papyrus pausing often to scream at Sans’ terrible puns and give Frisk the chance to giggle without choking. When there were only a few stray noodles left at the bottom, Frisk held up their hands and quickly got both pairs of eyes focused on them, waiting for them to “speak.”

 

   _Why do you look different? Thought you were brothers?_

 

Sans sat up straighter and grinned mischievously before saying, “well, technically speaking, he’s my son.”

 

A beat passed, and Frisk’s eyes quickly darted between him and Papyrus, widening in shock while Sans snickered loudly. Papyrus harrumphed just as loudly and put his hands on both of Frisk’s shoulders.

 

“SANS! DON’T DELIBERATELY MISLEAD THEM!” He turned Frisk away from the still-laughing Sans to look at him and said, “YES, I WAS TECHNICALLY ADOPTED BY SANS, BUT WE ARE, IN FACT, BROTHERS EVEN IF WE ARE NOT RELATED BY BLOOD. WE GREW UP IN THE SAME ORPHANAGE.”

 

The mention of the orphanage sobered Sans up, and Frisk could hear his laughter die down rather quickly behind them. Papyrus glanced over toward him before continuing, “I ARRIVED AS AN INFANT WHILE SANS HAD ALREADY BEEN THERE FOR A FEW YEARS. I DON’T REMEMBER MUCH OF IT, I WAS ONLY FIVE WHEN SANS TURNED 18 AND ADOPTED ME BEFORE HE LEFT, SO IT’S ALL RATHER FUZZY. BUT I DO KNOW THAT SANS AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN DESTINED TO BE BROTHERS NO MATTER WHERE IN THE WORLD WE WERE BORN. AFTER ALL, SANS HAS OFTEN TOLD ME THAT I AM THE BEST THING THAT EVER CAME OUT OF THAT PLACE!”

 

He released Frisk’s shoulders and they turned to look at Sans, who had a faint blush on his face and was grinning softly at Papyrus, somber mood broken. “yep, and don’t you ever forget it.”

 

Papyrus threw the fork into the empty spaghetti container and hopped off the bed, spinning dramatically to flare out his red cape as he turned back to Frisk. But before he could say anything else on the matter, his eye caught the vase of bright yellow flowers by the window.

 

“WOWIE! WHAT NICE FLOWERS! PERHAPS YOU WOULD LIKE TO MAKE FLOWER CROWNS FROM THEM? OR ARE THEY TOO PRECIOUS TO USE IN SUCH CRAFTS?”

 

Frisk saw Sans flinch while sitting in the chairs; it looked like he forgot to tell Papyrus what Toriel said about the flowers, and he gave Frisk an apologetic look. But Frisk just smiled back at Sans and shook their head amiably at Papyrus before pointing to the door.

 

_No, give to other children_. _They like more._

Papyrus looked ecstatic at the idea.

 

“YES, PERFECT! I THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND YOU, MY SILENT SIDEKICK, SHALL GO AND BESTOW THESE GREAT GIFTS TO ALL OF THE OTHER CHILDREN.”

 

Frisk allowed themselves to be picked up and placed on Papyrus’ shoulders, the food giving them enough energy to keep their balance as they slumped over his head, but Papyrus didn’t seem to mind almost having his vision blocked by their hair. He reached over to the vase by the window and yanked all the flowers out in one fist, nearly knocking it over in the process. He ducked to make sure Frisk wouldn’t hit their head on the top of the door frame and rushed out of the room, waving the fist full of flowers around excitedly and yelling, “WHO WANTS FLOWERS?”

 

He then proceeded to throw the yellow flowers at any child that raised their hands or called back, “Me!” while laughing. The flowers were small and didn’t hurt upon impact, so it was only funny when they smacked into the tiny faces or got caught on IV lines or medical equipment. In fact, many children soon began throwing their return gifts for Frisk _back_ at Papyrus; the origami animals and paper dolls bounced harmlessly off of him as he tried to catch as many presents from his “adoring fans” as possible, and Frisk giggled from his shoulders.

 

It didn’t take long for him to run out of “ammo” and loudly announce a “tactical retreat” back to the hospital room, followed by the laughter of a dozen children. He kneeled down so Sans could pick Frisk up off of his shoulders and set them carefully on the bed, and when he bounced up he held an arm full of paper crafts.

 

“HERE FRISK, THE SPOILS OF OUR VALIANT CRUSADE! SHALL I HELP YOU PIN THEM UP ON YOUR WALL?”

 

But Frisk shook their head and motioned for him to lay everything out of the bed. They then turned to open the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a handful of safety pins left in there by various hospital staff members. Frisk slowly picked up every craft and pinned them all carefully to Papyrus shirt. They wanted to tell Papyrus how grateful they were for the home cooked spaghetti, how included they felt watching him and Sans bicker playfully, how that trip to the community room was the most fun they had had since they got to the hospital, but they didn’t know how. So instead, they just signed,

 

_Want you to have. Good friend, you deserve._

For the first time since Frisk met him, Papyrus looked almost shy. “REALLY? YOU WANT TO BE MY FRIEND?” He spun around several times while admiring his newly decorated shirt and yelled, “I’LL CHERISH THESE FRIENDSHIP BADGES FOREVER!” and spun around a few more times.

 

He probably would have kept spinning for a lot longer if Sans hadn’t interjected with, “heya pap. the kid told me they like puzzles too. you wanna show ‘em how a master does it?”

Papyrus nearly shrieked in delight, “I CAN’T BELIEVE I NEARLY FORGOT! I PACKED ALMOST ALL OF MY PUZZLE BOOKS IN THE TRUNK OF THE CAR, LET ME GO GET THEM!” and tripped over himself trying to run out of the room as fast as possible.

 

Frisk looked over at Sans and smiled, and he grinned back, ruffling their hair as they heard Papyrus dodging more projectiles thrown from the children still in the community room. They both laughed, and the thought of spending the rest of the afternoon with the two brothers filled Frisk with DETERMINATION.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Sorry I couldn’t update as quickly as I had hoped to. My older sisters are home for the holidays and I am NOT having a good time.
> 
> Also, those are not Papyrus' regular clothes. He heard they were going to the children's ward and wanted to impress them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I got from watching MooFrog's stream the other day. Let me know if you guys want to see it continued.
> 
> I don't think I'll be continuing my other fic; I'm just not sure where to take it from where I left off. But I have a fully fleshed outline for this one, so I know I can finish it.


End file.
